The Dance Card
by onewritergirl93
Summary: "I bet Gilbert took your dance card."


**A/N: Based on the events in the third movie, The Continuing Story. Usually, I would base my stories solely on the books, but this fit the situation. I hope I conveyed just a touch of the beauty in such a gesture. I can't even come close to doing this, the most incredible love story of all time, justice, but I sure do enjoy trying. Reviews are so appreciated! Enjoy! **

**"I bet Gilbert took your dance card." **

Anne had scoffed at the idea so many years ago. Gilbert Blythe, taking _her_ dance card? No, the idea was ridiculous. They were hardly civil toward one another; he had no reason or inclination for such a romantic gesture.

Shortly after that night, the missing dance card was forgotten. Many years passed, hearts had been broken, changed and restored, every moment leading to the one they were in now - the first morning as Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert Blythe. Their last morning together before he left. Anne Blythe (oh, how lovely her new name was!) pushed those thoughts out of her head and turned toward her husband's sleeping form. She couldn't resist the temptation to run her fingers through his dark hair and his eyes opened.

A sleep smile lifted Gilbert's lips. "I love you, Mrs. Blythe," he whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and one spilled out before she could stop it. _Why must this hurt so?_

"I love you, Mr. Blythe. Desperately." Her voice broke and he held her. Brushing her hair away, he kissed her again and again. They stayed that way for hours, only whispering occasional words of love, savoring the feeling of being in the arms of their love.

All too soon, the time came to dress for the trip to the train station. It was done in stoic silence, as was the short ride over. A passerby wouldn't have known the turmoil in the hearts of the young couple in the shiny new buggy. The only hint of the desperation plaguing the moment was Anne's tiny hand clinging tightly to Gilbert's arm as he lead the horses.

Once there, they went through the motions of purchasing Gil's ticket, Anne barely refraining from buying her own, and made their way to the platform. They found a bench and sat with their shoulders touching, their fingers intertwined between them. Still no words passed between them. Fifteen minutes, even in silence that wasn't comfortable despite their relationship, would pass quickly and then he would be gone. The realization that time was running short hit them both at the same instant.

"Anne, - "

"Gil - "

Gilbert let out a laugh and waited for her to finish.

"I..." Anne was out of words. She just felt the need for them, any of them, to try and express the depth of emotion swirling within her - sorrow, longing, pride and most of all, love. All-consuming love for this man before her - this handsome, wonderful, _good_ man. Her husband. In a way that hadn't happened often to Anne, words escaped her. There were none that could convey her adoration. She chose to show just a glimpse by kissing him thoroughly. Finally, Gilbert pulled back, his hand still cupping her cheek and his forehead leaning on hers.

"Anne, I...," he leaned back slightly and reached into his coat pocket. "I have something for you. Well, something to return to you."

Her brow crinkled and she took the small booklet he held. A rush of memories from long ago flooded her heart. _A Christmas ball. Diana. Puffed sleeves. Gilbert turning away. And this book that she now held:_ her missing dance card. The name of the hotel was still etched on the cover, but the ink had faded and the edges were worn, as if it had been handled often. She flipped through the pages, finding them blank, as she had left them that night, until the last page. In his familiar scrawling font, Gilbert had signed his name on the last line. _A waltz. _

Anne lifted her eyes to meet his. The purest love she had ever known looked back at her and more memories flashed in her mind: _Years later, Diana's wedding. Dancing alone, then Gilbert steps in. Fighting what was happening between them. His proposal, her refusal. His patience and their own wedding just a day ago. _Her eyes searched his.

Gilbert smiled softly and answered her silent question. "I knew there would be others to fill the spaces, but that was okay; I only wanted to be your last." He tilted Anne's chin and kissed her once.

Soft sobs tore through her and Anne buried her face in her husband's coat. Gil held her and bent his head toward her ear.

"Care to?"

Their eyes locked again and they danced. Between the throng of people rushing to and fro, he held her close and they waltzed. Their heartbeats and fluid movements played the most beautiful melody. The easy swaying was interrupted by the occasional misstep or a bump from someone pushing by, causing them to step on the other's toe. It was imperfect, intimate, wholly lovely. It was their story. Through the memories and toward the hopes and dreams for the future, their dance took them on a most spectacular journey.

When the call for,_ "All aboard!"_ yanked them back to reality, the pain searing their very souls, Gilbert only needed to know one thing:

"Save me a dance?"

"Always."


End file.
